


Always

by soy_em



Series: 12 days of Wincestmas 2016 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drunkenness, Episode: s02e11 Playthings, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:16:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9267257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soy_em/pseuds/soy_em
Summary: “Always, Dean,” Sam continues. “Used to think about this, before Stanford. About lying with you, touching you. Kissing you. You always looked like you liked kissing so much. Used to watch you with girls, you know.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [random_firework](https://archiveofourown.org/users/random_firework/gifts).



> Missing scene from s2e11 - Playthings

After he tips Sam into bed and makes sure he’s covered as much as possible, Dean potters for a while, restless, before climbing into his own bed. His mind keeps repeating the way Sam’s hands had cupped his face, the way Sam had stared into his eyes and the way it had felt like they were teetering on the edge of something they’d hidden deep. Something he’s been burying for years.

The hotel is old, and the building creaks and groans as it settles for the night, each new noise making Dean startle slightly. It takes him ages to fall asleep, and he’s not best pleased to be woken up not long after. There’s a solid line of heat along his back, clammy skin pressing against him, and damp breath on his neck.

“Dean,” Sam whispers, so very close to his ear. “Dean.”

He can smell tequila as Sam talks, and he’s about to roll over, remind Sammy that they haven’t slept in the same bed for years now, that he needs to get back into the other bed, when Sam’s hand lands on his chest and starts sliding down. 

Too startled to react, Dean can’t move as Sam’s hand makes it to the bottom of his tshirt and moves underneath, stroking softly along the skin of his belly. His heart pounds as Sam’s ragged nails scritch softly through the hairs on his stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Despite his years of training on what to do in unexpected situations, Dean’s brain is both frozen in shock and juddering a mile a minute, reminding him of all the times he’s dreamed of this, waking up to sticky boxers; all the times when Sam was at Stanford and he’d get drunk and think about this, reasoning guiltily that he’d probably never see his little brother again so it was ok. He knows he definitely can’t have this - it’s wrong, Sammy’s drunk, they’re brothers, there’s a million reasons why not - and yet he can’t bring himself to remove his brother’s hand. 

He’s so focused on what Sam’s fingers are doing that he forgets about the rest of his little brother, so when Sam’s sharp teeth scrape across his shoulder he moans aloud. Sam takes the opportunity to move his hand into Dean’s boxers, going straight for the prize and wrapping around Dean’s cock, which hasn’t got the memo about forbidden little brothers and stiffens immediately. Its Sam’s turn to groan when he feels that, teeth biting sharp pain into Dean’s neck.

That’s enough to finally spur Dean into action, or a kind of action anyway. “Sammy, no,” he says, grasping his brother’s wrist and pulling it back, “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Sam is a persistent little fucker though. “I want this, Dean,” he says, surprisingly clear and directly into Dean’s ear. Shivers race down Dean’s spine. “Always wanted this.”

His hand find its way back into Dean’s underwear and cups his balls gently. Dean’s back arches without his consent, pressing him back into Sam’s hips. Sam definitely wants this, Dean thinks, at least right now. The evidence is pressing solidly into his ass. 

That doesn’t mean jack shit though, Dean knows. Sam has had enough to drink that it would impact on Dean’s judgement, never mind his lightweight brother. As he goes to move Sam’s hand again, pulling away slightly, Sam starts to talk.

“Stay, Dean.” Sam’s other arm tightens around his waist. “Always wanted this. Never thought I could have it. But I’m unclean anyway, might as well have it now.” The last part is muttered, barely audible, and Dean makes one last attempt to move, appalled by Sam’s self-loathing words.

Sam’s hand has started to move, slowly and softly on Dean’s cock, and Dean gives up all pretense of trying to stop this. He too has wanted it for years, after all. 

“I remember watching you with one girl, she was sucking you off. I thought about that every time I got off for weeks, wanted to be the one sucking you. Still wanna do that now. I’d love to get my mouth on you, would suck you so slow. Make it so good for you.”

Dean is panting now, hardly able to think with how turned on he is. Sam’s hand has sped up and combined with the words spilling out of his little brother’s mouth, he’s not sure he’s going to last long. Sam’s hips are rocking into his ass in time with his strokes, and his other hand is moving restlessly across Dean’s left nipple, giving just enough friction to tease. 

“Remember seeing you fuck this girl. She screamed, Dean, and I wanted to be her so badly. You could fuck me, Dean, I’d let you.” Sam’s voice turns plaintive, sounding almost little boy lost, and Dean has always been a sucker for that. “Do you want to fuck me, Dean?”

Dean’s brain conjures of plenty of images of the many ways he’d like to fuck Sam (on his back, on his knees, Sam in his lap riding him while Dean bites his neck, Sam bent over the back of a sofa, Sam in panties). “Yes, Sam, god, yes.” He comes, hard, over the back of Sam’s hand and the inside of his boxers, trembling and shocked as his limbs spasm.

“Oh my god, Dean, you came. I made you come,” Sam suddenly sounds as drunk as he actually is, and his hips speed up. It only takes a couple of seconds for Sam to arch behind him, and as wetness spreads through both their boxers, Dean is blindsided by how hot he finds that. His body shudders so hard that Sam’s arms involuntarily tighten around him again, thinking he is trying to escape.

Once they are both quiet and still, Dean’s brain crashes back into gear. What the fuck has he done? He’s let his little brother, his brother, give him a handjob. When Sam is far too drunk to have made a conscious choice. Dean easily avoids the memory of Sam telling him how long he’d wanted this, and he focuses on how much he hates himself. Sam is his perfect, precious brother and Dean has corrupted him. 

He’s about to turn around and tell Sam so when he realises that Sam is snoring - clearly the alcohol has taken effect again. He removes Sam’s hands from his waist, and goes into the bathroom to clean up before getting into the other bed. Hopefully Sam won’t remember any of this in the morning. 

***  
To say that Sam is not in a good place in the morning is a gross understatement. He’s puking his guts up in the bathroom when Dean comes back from breakfast. Surely, Dean thinks, surely he won’t remember.

“I’ll bet you don’t remember a thing from last night, do you?” he asks. His only response is a groan. Thank god, he thinks. They are only just getting over Dad, and with Ava missing and all the stress Sammy has been under, Sam just doesn’t need the guilt associated with a drunken, incestous mistake to add to his worries. Even if the thought that Sam did want him back had made Dean’s heart soar. This way is better.

It’s not until later, as they are leaving the room with Sam washed and dressed and smelling like a normal human again, that Sam steps up behind him, wrapping his huge hands around Dean’s hips. He presses tight against Dean’s back, touching from head to toe, and says right into Dean’s ear, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten last night, Dean. You said you’d fuck me, I’m gonna wanna collect on that tonight.”

He steps back and walks past Dean, out of the door. Dean is so turned on his legs almost give out and it feels like he’s gone cross-eyed.

“Come on, Dean. We gotta solve this case,” Sam yells up the stairs. “Got a long day ahead of us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [Tumblr](http://soy-em.tumblr.com/)


End file.
